


Birdsong

by PAPERHATDUDE



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Derogatory Language, M/M, Misgendering, Tags May Change, Trans Character, Trans Edward Nygma, Trans Male Character, child abuse mention, trans riddler, transphobic language
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-03-10 14:35:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 6,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13503582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PAPERHATDUDE/pseuds/PAPERHATDUDE
Summary: “You’re new, aren’t you.”It wasn’t a question. It was a statement.Jonathan Crane was, in fact, new. He had moved to Staples Minnesota, after the death of his grandmother. With no known relatives he was taken in by Child Protective Services, who stuck him on a plane to his new foster family. The Millers were enthusiastic, having fostered several children before him. He was less so. Within a week they decided he was well adjusted enough to begin school again. So here he was in his Sophomore year of high school, in history class, being pestered by someone.





	1. Questions

**Author's Note:**

> Hey this is something. I always see high school aus where Edward goes to Arlen, but never ones where Jonathan goes to where Edward lives. I don't know if there has been a general agreed upon Fanon birthplace for Edward, and I couldn't find a canon one, so Staples Minnesota it is. Yes that's a real place. 
> 
> Warning for slight accidental misgendering by Jonathan in the beginning.

“You’re new, aren’t you.”

It wasn’t a question. It was a statement.

Jonathan Crane was, in fact, new. He had moved to Staples Minnesota, after the death of his grandmother. With no known relatives he was taken in by Child Protective Services, who stuck him on a plane to his new foster family. The Millers were enthusiastic, having fostered several children before him. He was less so. Within a week they decided he was well adjusted enough to begin school again. So here he was in his Sophomore year of high school, in history class, being pestered by someone.

Jonathan looked up from his book, ready to glare at whoever had interrupted him. Sitting next to him was a girl with short curly hair and russet skin. She wore an ill-fitting purple dress. Her eyes were green and stared at him from behind thick round glasses. 

“I moved here recently, yeah.” 

She giggled, presumably at his accent, and extended a hand. 

“I like you. I’m Edward.”

He took the proffered hand, southern hospitality and all that, and shook it dubiously. 

“Jonathan. Isn’t that a boy’s name?”

“I am a boy. Some people just don’t get it yet.” She, he, squinted at him. “Do you get it? If you don’t then we can’t be friends.”

He blinked slowly. 

“Why would you want to be friends with me?”

Edward thought for a second. 

“Because you don’t know me yet. You don’t know who people think I am, so I can be the one to tell you. And your book looked interesting.”

“It’s not, really.”

“Then why are you reading it?”

“You ask a lot of questions, don’tcha?”

“I’m known for it. Why did you move here?”

“If you know I’m the new kid, then you’ve heard.”

Edward nodded. 

“I don’t like to believe rumors. You wouldn’t believe the things they say about me.”

Jonathan opened his mouth to respond that it wasn’t none of Edwards goddamn business why he moved here, but the bell rang and the teacher greeted the class. 

“We have a new student with us today, all the way from Georgia. Jonathan, come up and introduce yourself to the class.”

Shooting a look at Edward, Jonathan rose from his seat. He was gangly and awkward and always had trouble with attached desks. Luckily he didn’t fall and managed to make his way to the front of the classroom. 

“I’m Jonathan.”

The rest of the class returned a deathly bored chorus of “Hi Jonathan,” as though it was a chore to even waste time thinking about him. He started back towards his seat, but the teacher put a hand on his shoulder. 

“Why don’t you tell the class a little bit about yourself?”

He sighed, eyes landing on Edward in the crowd. Edward gave him a cheeky smile. 

“I’m from Arlen. In Georgia.”

The room was quiet. So quiet. 

“Yes, we know that Jonathan, how about something else.”

The teacher's hand dug into his shoulder. It reminded him of granny’s. He could almost feel the old crone’s claws gouging his skin, cutting his back. 

“Really, Ma’am, I don’t have much to say. May I sit down now?”

Her smile was forced, but she nodded, releasing him. He breathed deeply, returning to his chair. Edward looked at him curiously. He wished this day would end already. 

 

 

“Hey! Wait up!” Edward called to him, and Jonathan could hear the smack of shoes on pavement. Jonathan slowed his pace, letting Edward catch up with him. The other child panted heavily, punching Jonathan in the arm. 

“What the hell was that for?” 

“Making me run,” Edward gasped out, “you bastard.”

“I didn’t make you do anything,” Jonathan said. 

They walked in silence for a bit, passing house after house after house. 

“If you’re a boy then how come you've got on a dress?” 

Edward scowled, fiddling with the straps on his backpack. 

“Because my dad thinks I’m a girl. He’s not smart enough to understand.”

Jonathan nodded, not quite understanding, but willing to pretend that he did. They walked in silence for a few more paces. 

“Where do you live?” Edward asked. 

“Kinda a funny question, impromptu and all that,” Jonathan replied. He glanced up at the street sign. He hoped he was going the right way. 

“I guess. Only, I heard that you got adopted, and nobody can figure out who adopted you.”

“Up on Chestnut and Green. The Millers.”

“Oh! They’re nice.”

“I guess.”

More silence. Edward stopped at a street corner. 

“This is where I get off. See you tomorrow.”

It wasn’t a question.


	2. Afterschool Special

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonathan gets home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhhhhh tw for child abuse mention :’)))

“I’m home!” He shouted through the house. Granny made sure he let her know when he got home. So she could be ready.  
Taking his backpack off, Jonathan wiped his shoes on the mat. She got mad if he didn’t. He placed them on the shoe rack. It had far too many empty spaces. It made him sad, sometimes. When he had time to think about it.  
Granny hobbled out of the parlor, a room he was never allowed in. He closed his eyes, trying not to flinch as she dug through his backpack, making sure he didn’t have any contraband.  
“What do you say to your grandmother?” She chastised him, satisfied with searching his backpack.  
“Evening Ma’am. How was your day?”  
“Suitable. Do your homework, straight to bed. I haven’t the mood to deal with you tonight.”  
At least it wasn’t a beating. He nodded, picking up the discarded backpack and trudging up the stairs. He still ached from yesterday when she beat him with a switch, so no dinner was a small price to pay.  
Someday he’d get her back. Someday he’d make her suffer.  
Jonathan let himself into the house with the key he’d been given. He took a breath in to yell, but the words died on his lips. He didn’t need to say that anymore. He let the breath out awkwardly, smiling to himself.  
He took his backpack off. Looked around him at the foyer of the house. It was so much smaller than the old farm. He took his shoes off, gently placing them on the shoe rack next to several other pairs. He headed towards the kitchen, where he could hear Mrs. Miller doing something.  
“Evening, Ma’am. How was your day?” He said flatly as he entered the kitchen.  
“Jonathan, you’re home already,” Mrs. Miller, Mary, turned to face him. She had flour on her arms and face, and she smiled at him warmly. “How was school?”  
“It was fine.”  
She nodded, eager to hear every little detail. He thought through his day for something that might interest her. Talking about himself and his experiences wasn’t something encouraged in Granny’s household.  
“I met a boy named Edward. He was,” Jonathan paused, “interesting.”  
Mrs. Miller nodded again, turning back to her baking.  
“What was the last name, dear? I don’t think I know of anyone in your class named Edward.”  
“I didn’t ask.”  
“Oh well. There’s always tomorrow.”  
She sounded so chipper, so contented. He stood awkwardly for a minute, not knowing if he was dismissed, if the conversation was over.  
“If you want you can do your homework down here. Or up in your room. Dinner’ll be ready as soon as Mark gets home.”  
Jonathan nodded, then realized she couldn’t see it.  
“Alright, Ma’am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t like this and it’s too short and granny is not written well but take it anyways. 
> 
> I’ve got like nine chapters written but I have no concept of an update schedule so,,,


	3. Talking, waking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A conversation or two

“Why do you talk like that, though?” Edward asked, wrinkling his nose. Today he wore a green sweater and a black skirt. His knee socks were pushed down so they weren’t really at his knees at all. 

“This is how people talk where I’m from. You’ve got an accent too, y’know.”

“No, not like that. I know what accents are, Jonathan.” He stretched the name out in a bad approximation of a Georgian accent. “You talk like you’re dumb.”

“I ain’t dumb. What are you talkin' about?”

“Like that. You said ain’t. That isn’t right.”

Jonathan leaned back in his chair, his long spindly legs stretching out in front of him. 

“I dunno. It’s just how I talk.”

Edward sighed. 

 

“Jonathan if you make me run again I swear I’ll do worse than hit you in the arm.” 

Jonathan stopped. He focused on breathing while Edward caught up. His companion was talking about something, but Jonathan wasn’t listening. 

“Don’t say things like that.” Jonathan interrupted. 

“Do you really hate whales that much?” 

“No, not that, dumbass. Don’t threaten me.”

“Ok. Don’t call me dumbass.”

The rest of the walk was continued in silence. Jonathan could feel the discomfort radiating from Edward as he fidgeted with the straps of his backpack and tried not to look at him. It only made the cold feeling in his chest hurt. 

They approached the light, and Jonathan knew he had to say something. He didn’t want to lose the only friend he had. 

“Sorry.” Jonathan said, “you aren’t dumb. I think you’re one of the smartest people I know.”

Edward looked up at him, eyes narrowing. 

“Who’s the smartest?”

“Why do you wanna know?

Sighing, Edward rolled his eyes. 

“So I can kill them and become the smartest, obviously.”

Jonathan laughed in surprise. He hadn’t thought Edward cared that much about his opinion. 

“In that case, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You’re no fun.” Edward stuck his tongue out at Jonathan, who peeled off to walk towards the Miller’s house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, lemmme know how you guys are liking this, and how the vibe is on the update situation??


	4. Names

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edward gets into an altercation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw for misgendering and deadnaming! Sorry guys :/

History bored Jonathan out of his mind. It was the only class he had with Edward, but neither of them was very dedicated to it. Edward, of course, got straight A’s anyway. Jonathan wasn’t failing it, but he held no interest in the topics being discussed. 

The teacher droned on as Jonathan looked around the room. Next to him, Edward doodled on his worksheet. He smiled up at Jon, showing him what was on the page. In the margin of the paper was a fairly accurate doodle of their teacher about to be crushed by a weight labeled ‘the intricacies of 800’s European politics’. Jonathan shook his head in amusement. 

“Ahem. Do you have something to share with the class Margaret?”

Edward’s whole body went stiff. He dropped his pen and slowly got to his feet, eyes downcast. 

“No, Ma’am.”

“Can I continue without further distraction?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Good.” The teacher said, continuing with her explanation. 

As Edward sat back down, movements still stiff, he mumbled. 

“S’not my name.”

“What?” The teacher turned back from the blackboard. This time Edward didn’t stand up to speak. 

“I said that isn’t my name. You got it wrong.”

She looked at him with cruel eyes - so much like granny’s - and picked the attendance sheet off of her desk. 

“Does it not say Margaret Nashton on this sheet?”

“It might say it but that doesn’t mean it’s true.” Edward stared up at her defiantly. 

Her face was beet red in anger. 

“Well, Margaret, I think the truth is that you’re going to get detention for disturbing class. I will be seeing you after school, Margaret.”

Wincing at each mention of the name, Edward stunk deeper into his seat. He looked on the edge of tears. Jonathan never knew how to handle his own emotions, let alone other people’s. 

That day Jonathan decided that he hated history. And that next time, he’d stick up for Edward. 

That’s what friends do. 

 

Since Edward had detention, Jonathan walked home alone. 

He greeted Mrs. Miller, like always, and didn’t quite know what to say, like always. So he went up to his room. 

It was strange, not living in the farmhouse anymore. He knew all the creaks in the floorboards there. The walls and the smell were familiar, they felt like home. Even though he hated that place, even though he wanted to get as far away from it as possible, he was homesick. 

It was just another indicator of how fucked up he was, he thought, angrily tossing his backpack onto the bed. He lay down. Here he was safe, here he was free, and yet he found himself hoping to go back. Not back to granny, god no, she could stay buried out in the garden. But he missed the house. 

Pulling out the worksheet he hadn’t done in class, Jonathan’s thoughts turned to Edward. Margaret. No, Edward. He chose to believe his friend instead of that horrible woman. Ed was smart, he’d know far better than her if he was a boy or not. 

The bone-crushing boredom of ‘the intricacies of 800’s European politics’ occupied him until dinner.


	5. Things in common

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They don’t talk about things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops, how long has it been since I updated? Sorry guys. This chapter is kinda sad :/  
> Tw: child abuse

The next day Edward came into class looking tired. Usually the boy had boundless energy, but not today. He wore the same clothes as yesterday, and there was something odd about his face, though what it was Jonathan couldn’t tell. 

“Morning.” Edward greeted him, sliding into his desk. 

“Same to you. How’d you fare in detention?”

Edward shrugged. He picked at a splinter in his desk. 

“I get detention more than you’d think. I’ve just been staying out of it so we can walk home together.” He looked like he wanted to say something else. Jonathan waited, but Edward resolutely didn’t meet his eyes. 

“I think you’ve got something on your sweater.” Jonathan noticed aloud. It was hard to make out the color on the green sweater, but, “Edward is that blood?”

Looking down at his chest, Edward hummed in annoyance. He picked at it, trying to make it come out. 

“Damn, that was one of my favorite sweaters.”

“Edward,” Jonathan reached out to grab his arm, “what happened?”

Edward pulled back from Jonathan’s outstretched hand. 

“Pops gets pretty angry when I have detention.”

Jonathan realized why Edwards' face looked strange that day. He had put makeup over a large bruise on his cheek. It was only visible when Jonathan really looked for it. Edward was good at this kind of makeup, which lead to an even more chilling realization. He was practiced at it. He learned it for survival, like Jonathan learned that arguing only made things worse, that he had to announce himself before he entered the house, that covering his eyes and throat was important when the crows came for him. 

He didn’t say anything. Just sat there and processed the information. 

“I understand. My granny...“ he couldn’t make the words come out right, couldn’t display his sympathy in the right way. So he looked at Edward, trying to communicate how he felt with his eyes alone. 

Edward nodded solemnly. 

 

 

“Did you ever find out that boy’s last name?” Mrs. Miller asked, leaning over his shoulder to look at his homework. He’d taken to doing it at the kitchen table now. Upstairs it was too quiet. 

“Oh. It’s Nashton.” Jonathan thought about Edwards confrontation with the teacher, silently hoping, hoping for something. He didn’t quite know what, but he didn’t want her to react to Edward like the teacher had. 

She clucked her tongue, shaking her head. 

“Then he’s Jack Nashton’s. Poor kid.” Mrs. Miller said, turning back to whatever cooking she was doing today. 

“Why?” 

“His mother left, years ago now. I didn’t know that Jack even had a son. Anyways, he didn’t handle her leaving too well, and some folks say that he was a bit of a drunkard before that. But you don’t want to hear this awful gossip.”

“Yeah.” He went back to his math, thinking.


	6. The Ball Starts Rolling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not posting! I.. forgot that I was doing this. Anyway this is where the plot a-thickens   
> Tw for a lot of stuff tbh  
> Physical violence, transphobia, misgendering  
> Sorry

Jonathan and Edward walked home together again. It had become a routine. 

“Can I come over?”

“What?”

“To your house. You said you had trouble with your math last night. I thought I could help out. Tutor you.” Edward looked up at him. Jonathan considered for a moment. 

“I don’t know if I’m allowed to.”

Edwards' face fell, and a lump formed in Jonathan’s stomach. 

“It’s just,” he hastily added, “I’ve never had a friend over before. Here or back in Georgia.”

The implications hung in the air between them. No friends, here or in Georgia. Granny wouldn’t let him. Jonathan had a friend now. 

“Oh.”

“I’ll ask, though. Thank you for offering.”

Edward smiled. 

“No problem. What’s your last name?”

“Keeny.” He made a face but answered anyway, knowing by now that Edward would sometimes go on a question spree, gathering knowledge. 

“Do you want a different one?” Edward asked, noting the expression. 

“Yeah, a little bit. It was her name, not mine. An’ I don’t know what my dad’s last name was, which should be my last one, right?”

“That makes sense. I don’t like my last name either.” Edward let out a sigh. “Or my other name. When I’m old enough I’m going to get it changed. You can do that, y’know? Go and tell the government that you’ve got a different name. Then it’s all official and nobody can say otherwise.”

Jonathan nodded. They could both use an opportunity to change things. 

 

The next day at school Jonathan felt excited. Mrs. Miller had given him permission to bring Edward back to the house after school, as long as they did their homework. He readily agreed that they would, thanking her over and over. She laughed, but there was a little pain in her eyes. She could see right into his depraved childhood. 

He sat at his desk in history, waiting to tell Edward the good news. 

The bell rang, and Edward still hadn’t arrived. Possible reasons for Edwards absence ran through his head in a blur. 

The teacher started the lesson for that day, paying no attention to the missing student. Eventually Jonathan raised his hand. She called on him. 

“May I go to the bathroom, Ma’am?”

“Can-“ She furrowed her brow, realizing that the grammar had been correct, “how many essays did Luther write about the corruption in the church?”

“Ninety-five, Ma’am.”

She dismissed him, obviously peeved. 

Walking down the hallway, Jonathan heard the sounds of a fight coming from around the corner. Turning, he saw the scene before him. 

Two boys stood over Edward. One of them pressed his foot into Edwards' hand, the other laughed and kicked him in the stomach. 

“You stay the fuck away from us, bitch.”

Anger washed over Jonathan in a cold rage. He strode towards the boys, taking one of them by the collar. He was significantly taller than the boy, though not as heavy, but he still made an imposing figure. 

“Y'all shouldn’t’ve hurt him.” He hissed into the boys face, “because you better believe I will hurt you so much worse.”

The boy, who had been surprised when Jonathan grabbed him, sneered up at the taller boy. 

“What, you tryin’ to act all big and strong in front of your girlfriend?” He mocked. 

Jonathan hadn’t thought far enough ahead, he thought that the boys would back down if he just stood up for Edward. He had no idea what to do. 

So he punched the boy. It wasn’t a very strong punch, as Jonathan was usually on the receiving end of any abuse. But it connected with the boy’s nose, sending blood trickling down his face and onto his shirt. 

Edward, seizing the opportunity while both boys were distracted, bit the leg of the boot that was still mashed into his hand. The boy recoiled violently, releasing Edward. 

Scrambling to his feet and wiping his mouth, Edward placed himself at Jonathan’s side. The other boys, now sustaining injuries, looked at each other. 

“Isn’t worth it.” The boy with the bloody nose spat at them, and they walked off. Presumably to the nurse’s office. 

The two boys watched the bullies until they were out of view, breathing heavily. Edward doubled over, coughing and clutching his stomach. Jonathan panicked, looping an arm around Edward and shepherding him into the boy's bathroom. 

“My knight in shining armor,” Edward mumbled, leaning heavily against Jonathan before pushing away and sliding to the floor with his back to a wall. 

“Shit. Are you bleeding?” Leaving Edward for a moment, Jonathan turned on the sink, washing his hands of the blood from the bully’s nose. 

“Not externally,” Edward said, biting back a half-sob half-laugh, “but my ribs might be cracked.”

Jonathan turned the tap to cold. He felt cold. When that boy looked up at him, the second or two of absolute panic in his eyes, it almost felt good. To have people be scared of you. Because if they were afraid, then you held the power. He had never held that kind of power before, had always been the one who was afraid. 

“Jonathan,” Edwards voice was so small and scared that it brought Jonathan back to himself. “I think my left hand is hurt. Bad.”

“Let me see.” 

Shutting off the tap, Jonathan crouched down beside Edward. He carefully took the younger boy’s hand in his, poking at different parts and gauging his reaction. There had been times when he had to fix his own wounds, and injuring a hand while working in the fields was not uncommon. 

“Can you try moving your ring finger for me?” 

Edward did so, slowly flexing all the fingers on his left hand.

“Yeah,” he said, rather belatedly. “Sorry, I’m usually better about these kinds of things.”

“I don’t have any idea what I’m doing either. I punched someone,” He laughed. “I could get in so much trouble for that.”

“I bit someone,” Edward added, starting to laugh with Jonathan. 

They laughed so hard that Jonathan sat down next to Edward and Edward began to cough wheezily. It died down, leaving them alone again in the bathroom. 

“Thanks.” It was so quiet that Jonathan almost missed it. 

“It’s what friends do.” He replied, hoping he could get something right. 

“Feel like heading back to class?” Edward asked. Jonathan shook his head. “Me neither. Let's go somewhere. I don’t want to stay here.”

“Where would we go?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave comments,, I swear this is going somewhere,,,


	7. Chirps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fear and its residuals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more uhhhhh pain :)

As it turns out, Staples didn’t have much in the way of things to do. They grabbed their backpacks and walked their normal path towards home after ditching school. 

Jonathan was a nervous wreck. He had never skipped school before without serious bodily harm either befalling him afterward or being the reason he could not go. He kept looking behind him, convinced that someone would take note and get them both in trouble. 

Edward talked around the incident. Neither of them wanted to dwell on it just then. He talked about a book he had read earlier. He talked about the puzzle he’d heard somewhere and they laughed about the answer. Jonathan nodded and muttered agreements. He listened, he knew that Edward loved to be listened to, but he couldn’t focus. 

They walked through a park, Edward steering him along a different route than usual. Stopping, Edward looked up at the sun. 

“We still have a couple more hours before school is over.” He said, sitting down in the grass. Jonathan joined him. 

Trees rustled in the wind and Edward shivered. A crow cawed from a branch, cutting through the quiet air. 

Closing his eyes tightly, Jonathan pushed back the wave of memories and pain that coursed through him. 

He’d been left alone overnight. 

They pecked at his skin, tearing slits into his back and arms. 

The rope holding him to the pole dug into his arms, cutting off circulation. 

He was cold. 

He was afraid. 

Edward’s hand was on his back. He could feel the warmth through his shirt. That was real. She was gone. She couldn’t hurt him anymore. The bird in the tree didn’t hate him. It wouldn’t hurt him. 

Concerned expression wrinkling his brow, Edward looked up at him. His hand rubbed soothing circles into Jonathan’s back. 

“You’re shaking.”

“Can we go somewhere else?” His tongue felt heavy, his body paralyzed. 

Nodding, Edward got to his feet. He helped Jonathan up with his uninjured hand. 

“We can go to my house,” Jonathan offered, “Mrs. Miller won’t mind.”

“She won’t mind that you’re skipping school? That seems like bad parenting to me.”

They began walking. The crow took flight from the tree, and Jonathan flinched at the sight of its silhouette against the sky. 

“You’ve probably got internal bleeding and I just had a panic attack so I think she’ll make an exception.”

After helping him up, Edward’s hand stayed in Jonathan’s. Neither of them said or did anything about it. It was nice to feel grounded to something. 

“Was it the crow?” Edward asked after a short period of silence. 

“Yeah.”

“Ornithophobia.”

“What?”

“The ‘abnormal and irrational fear of birds.’ I read about it somewhere.”

“No. It’s not that.”

“It describes your symptoms, so-“

“It doesn’t," Jonathan cut him off sharply, "My fear is far from irrational.”

Edward fell silent. 

“What about you, afraid of anything?” Jonathan asked. 

“Failure, dying in obscurity, not being accepted, my dad, cockroaches, I think you get the idea.”

Jonathan nodded, thinking about how he should look into the details of how fear worked. He didn’t want to be petrified every time he heard birdsong.


	8. After School Special

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhhhhh here ya go  
> Tw for deadnaming

They both sat in Jonathan’s room, having found the house empty. Mrs. Miller was likely out shopping. Jonathan’s room was boring, no decorations on the walls, plain white paint. No personality. 

“Not planning on settling in?” Edward joked, looking around before seating himself on the bed. 

“I don’t have a lot of possessions to fill it with. It feels strange asking the Millers for things, so it stays empty for now.” Jonathan replied, settling on his desk chair. 

“When I’m rich I’ll buy you a whole bunch of thing to fill your room with,” Edward said absently, digging through his backpack. 

Jonathan smiled, watching Edward produce a pencil and stand up to perch precariously on the desk. 

“What are you doing? You’re going to break it.” Jonathan shoved Edward off, and the younger boy laughed. 

“Well if you don’t want my help then fine,” He pursed his lips, “you won’t get my help.”

“Edward, come on. How about we sit on the floor?”

Situating themselves on the floor, Jonathan brought out his math homework and Edward looked at it. 

“I’m only having trouble because the teacher shouldn’t be certified to teach,” Jonathan grumbled, “He never explains anything.”

“Oh, this is easy.”

Edward showed him how to do the problem, writing it out on his paper. Looking at it, then at the other problems on the paper, Jonathan realized what he had been doing wrong. He muttered a thanks and began to solve the next problem. 

Edward, satisfied that he had helped, stood and wandered around Jonathan’s room. 

“What’s your favorite subject?” He asked.

“Chemistry.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Jonathan could see Edward opening his chest of drawers. He took out one of Jonathan’s shirts, sighing. The Millers has bought him new clothes when they saw how little he had. 

“This… is going to sound weird,” Edward said, holding the shirt to his chest. 

“Mmmhm.”

“Can I wear your clothes?”

Jonathan put his pencil down. 

“Why?”

“Because I never get to wear boys clothes. You’ve seen what I wear,” he gestured at the dress and knee socks that he wore currently, “it’s humiliating.”

“If it’ll make you feel better,” Jonathan nodded slowly, “I don’t know if they’ll fit you, though.”

Edward smiled at him. His eyes sparkled. Jonathan turned back to his homework. 

“No peeking. If you peek I will strangle you, Jonathan Crane.”

Jonathan felt his face go bright red as he heard fabric hit the floor. He hadn’t quite realized that Edward would change into his clothes right there behind him. He tried to focus on the math problems in front of him, to no avail. 

“Wow. You’ve got actual pockets.” Edward commented, “you can turn around now.”

Jonathan did. On the first day that he met Edward, the other boy asked him if he ‘got it.’ He had nodded at the time, happy to make an interesting friend, but now he got it. Seeing Edward standing there in one of Jonathan’s T-shirts that was way too big for him and a pair of Jonathan’s jeans, looking so happy, he finally got it. 

“You look,” he stammered out, “good.”

“You were right. They don’t really fit,” Edward laughed, looking down at himself, “Do you have a mirror?”

“In the bathroom. Second door on your left.”

Edward left, turning down the hallway. Jonathan buried his face in his hands. Seeing Edward as Jonathan now realized Edward saw himself was shocking. It had changed from his eccentric friend who wanted a nickname to something more definitive. And he was angry. 

Angry at himself for not understanding earlier, angry at the teacher for using the wrong name, angry at Edward’s father for hurting him. 

Edward was gone for a while, and when he got back there was a noticeable change in his mood from before. His eyes were downcast, and he picked at the front of his shirt. 

“What is it?” Jonathan asked as Edward sat down beside him. 

“It’s just, oh this is weird, actually talking to someone about all this. It’s just that I should feel happy about this. I feel much better wearing this than those horrible dresses and skirts. But underneath I’m still,” he sucked in a deep breath, leaning his head against Jonathan’s shoulder, “Margaret.”

The silence in the room was deafening. Thoughts and feelings swirled through Jonathan’s head. Anger boiled in his stomach. 

“No. You’re Edward. You’re smart, and you’re my friend. I get it now.”

He could feel hot tears running down Edwards' face and soaking into his shirt, but he didn’t mind. He awkwardly patted Edward’s hair.

“Sorry,” Edward whispered. 

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” 

“Then don’t apologize. Y’ain’t done nothin to be sorry for.”

“You still talk dumb,” Edward muttered into his shirt. 

Downstairs Jonathan heard the sound of a door unlocking and opening. Edward pushed himself off of Jonathan, drying his eyes. 

“That’ll be Mrs. Miller. I should go talk to her.” Jonathan stood, walking to the door and looking back at Edward. 

“Alright. Thank you.”

Nodding, Jonathan headed downstairs.


	9. Discomfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edward says goodbye and the Millers silently send a message.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoooooooo I have no idea how church go so I didn’t write it,, ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯   
> Tw for mentions of nooses/hanging/crusifixion 
> 
> I’m just plain old mean

“That was awful.”

When Mrs. Miller came home she was not happy to see them before school was over. Freezing, Jonathan had been unable to think up a proper excuse. She scolded him until Edward came downstairs, putting on airs around the guest. 

When Mark got home dinner was ready. Jonathan hadn’t spent much time with the man and didn’t particularly want to. He seemed nice enough, both of the Millers did, but he didn’t care for them. 

Mr. and Mrs. Miller’s reactions to Edward were… uncomfortable. Edward still wore Jonathan’s clothes, and Mr. Miller shot Jonathan a look to indicate that they’d talk about this later. But they were polite, which was what mattered right then. 

Now Edward stood in front of Jonathan’s house, preparing to leave. 

“Sorry about getting you in trouble,” Edward offered, “and for stealing your clothes.”

“Well, you can’t change back now. Just get home, and don’t get hurt anymore.” Jonathan said. 

“No promises.” Edward joked, stepping out of the beam of light provided by the porch light. “See you on Monday.”

|

 

Though the Millers admonished him for skipping school, they were oddly quiet about Edwards appearance at the house. That weekend they insisted he come to church with them, though they had been willing to let him stay at the house in the past. 

Jonathan hated church. 

It was just another way that Granny had controlled him, telling him that if he was bad he would go to hell. He believed her for a long time, shrinking in fear whenever he did something that could be considered a sin. 

He still believed in hell, but it was buried with her. Nothing could be as awful as that. 

Mrs. Miller smelled of old perfume, and Mr. Miller had shown Jonathan how to tie a tie. Afterward, he spent almost twenty minutes in the mirror reassuring himself that it wasn’t a noose. 

They dragged him out of the house and into the car, then out of the car and into the Church. He kept his eyes down. A large statue of Christ looked down at the congregation, arms spread across the cross. 

Rubbing his wrists anxiously, he sat down while the Millers chatted with another couple. Scanning the people in attendance, Edward did not seem to be among them. That was probably for the best. 

A wave of nausea crashed over Jonathan. Closing his eyes, he focused on his breathing. In. Out. In. Out. The tie wasn’t choking him at all. In. Out. His arms stretched out on a cross. In. He felt hot, though he knew the room wasn’t. It was drafty and old, and the stone it was made of radiated the kind of cold he could feel through his shoes. Out. In. Out. Unbutton his shirtsleeves a button or two. 

It hadn’t even started yet and he already wished it would end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, hope you liked it, hope you leave a comment!


	10. Relatives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> These boys walk home from school a lot huh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “What happened to your parents?”

Edward kept walking, but Jonathan slowed down. After a few more steps, Edward realized that his companion was no longer beside him and slowed his own pace to fall into step. 

“Never knew them. Granny always told me how my dad skipped town once he learned about me, and my mom raced after as soon as she could. Said that mom stole a bunch of stuff, and that’s why she had me-“ Jonathan almost choked on the words as they conjured vivid images in his mind. He swallowed, his throat dry. 

Edward nodded. He didn’t press the issue. 

The teens stopped somewhere along their walk home to sit down for a while. Jonathan was still a bit rattled from the memories Edward’s question dredged up. 

“My mom left too,” Edward said after a while. “She got away from my dad as soon as she could. I just wish she’d taken me with her.” His voice was filled with resentment. 

Turning to Jonathan Edward asked, “What happened to your grandmother? You said she took care of you?”

Jonathan almost laughed. 

“‘Took care of’ is a bit strong, but yeah, she looked after me. Beat me to hell, punished me for anything and everything, and scared me half to death. She’s dead now.” Jonathan sighed, tilting his head up to the sky to avoid eye contact with Edward, “Old bat had a heart attack after she-”

A wave of nausea hit Jon like a brick. The next thing he knew was lying flat on his back, Edward leaning over him with a face full of concern. 

“Shit. Jon? Do something if you can hear me, just- ah fuck.” Edward muttered, sitting back and running his hands through his hair nervously. 

Coughing a little bit, Jonathan tried to sit up. Edward breathed a deep sigh of relief and held Jon steady. 

“You can’t scare me like that, that was fucking terrifying, are you ok?” Edward spoke hurriedly, eyes searching Jonathan’s face for some kind of answer. 

Nodding, he hunched over and tried to breathe. It wasn’t going very well. She left him outside for so long the sun went down, and then it was so so cold, and he couldn’t feel his hand or his feet, then the dawn began to break, and he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t breathe. 

A warm hand appeared on his back, moving in fast circles, obviously meant to be calming. Edward still vomited words, though Jonathan couldn’t tell understand them. It was comforting to hear Edward talk and talk. 

They stayed like that for a while. 

The air was quiet, the occasional breeze rustling the leaves in the trees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment or a kudos! My self esteem feeds off positive reinforcement


	11. Research and Riddles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonathan goes to the library

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> forgot I had this written,, whoops!  
> anyway heres the boys again

The library in staples wasn’t extensive by any means, but Jonathan relished in it. He’d heard about it recently from Edward and decided to go the next weekend. The red brick building was cold inside. Jonathan didn’t mind, though.

The woman at the front desk peered over her glasses at him. He nodded to her awkwardly, knowing he’d need help to find anything but unable to bring himself to ask her.

Eventually, after what felt like hours of digging through the card catalog, he found the section he was looking for. Gripping the price of paper he wrote it down on to remember, he rounded a bookcase and double-checked the sign. Psychology.

Listening to Edward, Jonathan had absorbed an approximate knowledge of many things. This included some facts about psychology and the things contained therewithin. He wanted to know more.

All the books lining the shelves seemed like they would be able to crush Jonathan beneath them if they fell from the shelves. Eventually, he found a tome that looked far less daunting than the others; Intro to Psychology.

The book was still heavy, and Jonathan was annoyed not to be able to hold it for any length of time. He trudged over to one of the reading tables, opening his backpack and retrieving a clean sheet of paper and pencil to take notes with. The school he attended didn’t have a course on it, he’d checked, so he’d have to teach himself.

Time passed slowly, the only sign that it still moved was the beam of sunlight creeping its way across the floor. Once, Jonathan had to rouse from his seat to find a dictionary. He scrawled notes on his sheet of paper, anything and everything he thought might be useful. Definitions, factoids, processes, data.

A librarian tapped his shoulder, wordlessly indicating that the building would be closed soon. Jonathan hadn’t even made it through the first chapter. He itched to flip ahead and read about phobias, about how to control them, regulate his fear, but he knew that without the baseline of knowledge he’d be completely lost.

Leaving the book on a cart to be shelved, Jonathan headed home.

|

“What can you hold in your right hand, but never in your left hand?”

Jonathan thought for a minute. Edward beamed up at him expectantly.

“Is it… hang on I can figure this one out,” He muttered, brow furrowing, “something you can’t hold in your left hand, but can in your right, can’t in your left, can in your right…?”

“It’s your left hand!” Edward blurted out, taking Jonathan’s left hand in his right. “Although technically the answer could be most of your left arm. I certainly can’t touch my left elbow with my left hand. You know, there are some people who can,”

He continued to chatter as Jonathan became acutely aware of their hands, still linked. Jonathan’s stomach fluttered and he felt vaguely nauseous. Maybe he was getting sick.

As they approached the crosswalk, Edward gave Jonathan’s hand a squeeze before letting go.

“I like your riddles,” Jonathan muttered in lieu of a goodbye, turning and hurrying toward the Miller’s house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> u know I'm begging for those sweet sweet kudos  
> leave a comment if u like my jam!


	12. Oh Wait He’s Actually Sick?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just like it says in the title folks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHOOPS sorry for the late and short update,,, I got sucked into pacific rim hell and am writing something over in that area currentlyyyyy, Will probably not start posting that until this is done and these boys Talk to each other   
> No tw for this chapter, just some vague fever-fueled nightmares

As it so happened, Jonathan’s burning embarrassment wasn’t the only thing that made his face flush. It was also due to the hundred and three degree fever he was running when he returned home. 

Mrs. Miller sent him directly to bed and told him that she’d call the school in the morning to tell them he was sick. 

Jonathan tried to sleep. 

But his thoughts kept turning to Edward, and how casually he took Jonathan’s hand in his own, and the way he smiled when he talked about something he was passionate about, and 

Groaning, Jonathan mashed his face into his pillow. Damnit. Another wave of nausea washed over him, and he fell into a restless sleep. 

He woke the next morning with a sore throat and a runny nose. Mr. Miller said goodbye to him before leaving, and Mrs. Miller kept checking in on him throughout the day. 

He drifted in and out of unconsciousness, a pounding headache chasing him from nightmare to nightmare. Swirling autumn leaves, cold air filling his lungs, god he needs some water his throat is so sore, but he couldn’t move his hands. Couldn’t move his feet. There’s water on the bedside table if he can reach out if he can just grab the water 

A hand brushed his forehead lightly. Jonathan’s eyes fluttered open and he couldn’t for the life of him remember what his dream was about, only that his lungs ached. 

Mrs. Miller stood by his bed, a small smile on her lips. 

“Jonathan, there’s someone here to see you,” she said quietly, gently. Struggling to sit up in bed, Jonathan saw Edward hovering in the doorway. “Your friend came by to drop off some homework for you.”

Jonathan nodded, and Edward approached his bedside. He held up a small stack of papers, then decided to place them on the bedside table. 

“I’m sorry that you’re sick,” Edward offered up awkwardly. Mrs. Miller still stood nearby. “If you’re not in school tomorrow I’ll stop by again.”

Mouthing a thanks, damn his sore throat, Jonathan reached out for Edwards' hand. Edward quickly withdrew his limb before contact could be made, casting a glance in Mrs. Miller’s direction. 

“I hope you feel better soon.” He paused halfway back towards the doorway he came through, 

“What always comes, but never really arrives?”

“I’m too tired-“

Edward smiled. 

“See you tomorrow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a kudos/comment to fuel my writing machine


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